


You Can Make All My Wishes (In the Kitchen Baby)

by theirhappystory



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Also some not so implied, Cooking for his lady love, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Implied sexy times, Romance Novel Heroine Oliver Queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:44:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1405270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theirhappystory/pseuds/theirhappystory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Oliver wants is to make dinner for Felicity. Who knew it would be so hard?</p><p>(Or 5 times that Oliver fails at cooking for Felicity and 1 time he succeeds.)</p><p>.....</p><p>"The table is set.</p><p>The oven is hot.</p><p>Baby when we get started,</p><p>we won't ever stop...."</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Make All My Wishes (In the Kitchen Baby)

**Author's Note:**

> So this little fluff-a-nutter is a result of a post by @ohmypreciougirl on Tumblr. (Naty, stop giving me ideas!) It’s a cute piece free of angst that explores the multiple times that Oliver tries, and fails, to cook for Felicity and the one time he succeeds.
> 
> I hope you like it :)

 The first time Oliver tries to cook for Felicity is on her birthday.

He spends weeks preparing for it because everything has to be perfect. Never in his life has Oliver ever felt this overwhelming urge to go out of his way to please a woman, to give her only the best and nothing less. Which is ironic because Felicity couldn’t care less as long as they could just spend time together.

Sure, he had done nice things for the other women in his life. One time he had brought Laurel lunch while she was working on an essay for her law school application. Another time with McKenna he had set up a picnic of sorts in Verdant. When he had dated Sara he would massage her sore muscles after a particularly rough mission or training session. But that was mostly to impress them or to fill the role of the good boyfriend. Not always, but a significant enough portion of the time.

It was different with Felicity. With Felicity, it didn’t feel like an obligation or something he was expected to do. Often times he just found himself doing small things for her without even thinking about it. He loved the smile it brought to her face when he remembered to restock her freezer with the ice cream they ran out of the night before or when he came into Queen Consolidated with coffee and breakfast for her. (He had memorized Felicity’s favorites by season even before they started dating.) It just felt natural to do things for her because she did so much for him that he could never fully repay, at least in his opinion.

So when Felicity’s first birthday as his girlfriend came around, Oliver found himself eager to treat her to dinner and wine and a night in relaxing from their jobs, both of them. The problem was, he wanted perfection and the only way to do that was to practice and test everything out. He began with Italian dishes of pastas, going as far as to make his own sauce from old recipes Raisa lent him. She had offered to help with his cooking but Oliver insisted he do this on his own.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t enlist the help of one very opinionated eighteen-year-old he happened to know as a taste tester.

“No, that one is too messy. She is going to spend the entire meal worried that sauce is getting all over her face and clothes.”

“Speedy, we’re just eating dinner alone in her townhome. There isn’t going to be anyone there to see that.”

“Doesn’t matter. Girls always think about that when eating pasta. It’s a fact.”

They are currently sitting in the kitchen of the mansion, multiple dishes of entrees and desserts littering every solid surface. Raisa stands back to the side, leaning against the counter and chuckling at the two people she practically raised.

“Next dish. And don’t even think about trying anything with seafood. There is a seventy-five percent chance at least that she won’t like it.”

Oliver is really starting to regret his decision to have Thea test everything. He tells her as much while handing her another dish, this one with a marinated chicken breast and assorted sides. She scoffs before cutting a portion of the poultry off and popping it into her mouth.

“Okay, way too much rosemary. Did you even try this before shoving it down my throat?”

Thea coughs exaggeratedly and reaches for the glass of water next to her plate, gulping it down quickly.

“It tasted fine to me!”

“Well, it’s not. Next.”

This goes on for the next three entrees until finally Thea gives her approval on the filet mignon dish Oliver prepared. He asks Raisa to try it, just for a second opinion, and she agrees with Thea that this is the one he should cook for Felicity.

“Dessert time! Oh I have been so looking forward to this.”

When Felicity’s birthday comes around three days later, Oliver has a plan. He wakes her in the morning with a hand on her stomach and his head between her thighs under the sheets. They’re late for work but neither of them really cares. Once they finally arrive to Queen Consolidated, there’s a beautiful bouquet of colorful flowers on Felicity’s desk along with a card. Inside is his personal credit card with a note informing her that Thea would be by after lunch to take her shopping and she was not to come back for the rest of the day. He would meet her back at her townhouse when she and Thea were done. Felicity protests but Oliver silences her with his mouth as her objections turn to soft moans and sighs on pleasure. She doesn’t say anything about the plans after that.

It is currently seven-thirty and Felicity should be getting home any minute now. Oliver has prepared a three-course meal of salad, a filet mignon entrée, and a mint chocolate mousse cake for dessert. He’s picked out one of the best red wines that the mansion’s cellar has to offer and the table is set, complete with a deep red tablecloth and lit candles. Everything is perfect.

“Oliver, I’m home!”

The front door slams shut, he imagines she’s kicked it closed with her foot, and he can hear the clack of heels on hardwood and the rustling of shopping bags as she makes her way down the hall.

“In the kitchen!”

Oliver has a smile on his face and a glass of wine in his hand ready for her. When Felicity rounds the corner, she stops dead in her tracks. The multitude of bags in her hands drop to the floor as she stares at the scene before her. That was not exactly the reaction he was expecting but maybe she’s just so happy and surprised that it’s transferring weirdly to her body language.

“Happy Birthday, Felicity.”

“Oh my God. I am a horrible person.”

Okay, that’s _definitely_ not anywhere close to what he was expecting.  
“What?”

“Oh no! I ruined everything. Why didn’t you tell me you were making me dinner?!”

Her cheeks are flushed and her hands fly up to cover her face as he approaches her. He removes Felicity’s hands before settling his own on her hips and pulling her towards him.

“What’s wrong? What did you ruin?”

“I already ate dinner. I was walking around all afternoon with Thea and I’m not sure if you know this but shopping with your sister is exhausting. It should seriously be considered an Olympic sport. I hadn’t eaten since lunch and I was starving and Big Belly Burger was right there! So I picked us up dinner to go but kind of already started eating in the car because seriously I don’t know a person on this Earth who can resist eating French fries before they get home. Oliver, I am so sorry! I ruined all of your charming, romantic plans.”

Looking down he sees a take out bag from Big Belly Burger amongst the various retail bags and can’t help but laugh because of course Felicity would think of getting him dinner on her own birthday.

“That’s okay. I can make you dinner another night.”

They clean up the kitchen, stealing kisses and exchanging small touches, before sinking into her couch with their fast food and the Princess Bride playing on her TV.

She’s half-asleep by the end of the movie and when she asks him, adorably he might add, to carry her to bed he can’t resist his reply.

“As you wish.”

….

Oliver learns from his mistakes, most of the time… sometimes. So the next occasion he plans on making Felicity dinner, he tells her in advance. It’s a Wednesday and things have been pretty slow this week on both the QC and Arrow fronts. It’s been three months since his last attempt and there hasn’t been much time in between to prepare the dinner he wanted to. There still isn’t so he settles on a homemade pizza recipe that he found in her cupboard.

Felicity told him that it was a recipe passed down from her Bubbe, who is apparently the best cook in the entire world and he’ll have to try her food some time. Maybe they’ll visit for Hanukkah this year, she’s been dying to meet Oliver in person since Felicity told her about their relationship five months ago. This pizza was actually one of Felicity’s favorite things to make with her and because of this she has insisted on helping Oliver with it.

“You know you’re getting flour all over my kitchen, right? If you think I’m cleaning that up you’ve got another thing coming to you, Mr. Queen.”

Felicity stands over by the stove, keeping an eye on the sauce and stirring occasionally. She’s wearing a pair of leggings and one of his old college sweatshirts, an outfit she would never wear outside of her townhouse. (Oliver has slowly been trying to make it theirs without her realizing it. So far he’s got a toothbrush in her bathroom, an extra suit in her closet, and a few other articles of miscellaneous clothing in one of her drawers without her noticing. Or at least questioning him about it.)

“Then why don’t you come over here and show me the correct way to do it, Ms. Smoak.”

She reaches out to turn the stove to low heat and covers the pot of sauce before making her way over to the kitchen table where he is supposed to be kneading and shaping the dough. Rolling up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, Felicity hip checks Oliver out of the way to take over.

“You have to be firm but gentle with it or it’s going to get all over the place.”

Oliver steps up behind her and presses against her back, arms reaching around her to trace down her forearms to where her hands have started kneading the dough. They rest over hers and he can feel the stutter in movement when he nuzzles the skin of her neck before nipping slightly at it. Her body rocks with the motion of her kneading and he moves with her.

“Like this?”

His hands move from their current position to grasp her waist and he begins to knead it slowly, mimicking her actions in a much more erotic way. Felicity gasps slightly before using her body to push him back and away from her.

“Hey, none of that! This is one of my favorite recipes and I refuse to be interrupted by your insatiable sexual urges.”

When Oliver reaches for her again, Felicity quickly grabs a handful of flour and throws it at him, getting it all over his face.

“Did you just flick flour at me?”

“Maybe. It’s possible.”

“You are so in for it now.”

Oliver lunges forward to sweep flour off of the table and flicks it at her face. Soon they are engaged in an all out flour war, the white powder getting all over the kitchen and each other. He finally gets and arm around Felicity’s waist and pulls her to him, but he loses his balance and they both land on the floor, laughing and covered in flour.

“Now who is making the mess?”

“I believe that would be both of us.”

Felicity leans back against Oliver’s chest and turns her head to give him a kiss. They’re interrupted from taking it any further by the shrill ring of a phone. Felicity pulls away and stands to retrieve her cellphone, dodging Oliver’s attempts at grabbing her and bringing her back down to him.

“Digg? Yeah he’s with me now. Okay. We’re on our way. Thanks, see you at Verdant.”

Oliver knows exactly what that means and quickly stands to turn off the stove and walk over to Felicity.

“That was Digg. One of my searches at the foundry got a hit.”

“I guess it’s time to go then. Sorry we couldn’t finish the pizza.”

“It’s okay. I have a feeling we wouldn’t be finishing it either way.”

They quickly travel up the stairs to change their clothes and Felicity attempts to shake the flour out of her hair.

“I’m really not looking forward to explaining this to Digg.”

….

There’s a saying that the third time’s the charm. Well, Oliver is going to have to disagree with that one.

Felicity currently lies on her couch, cocooned in blankets with a trashcan by her head and three boxes of tissues on the coffee table. She has been sick for almost a week and refused to take off of work until this morning when even the slightest of movements sent her running to the bathroom. Even then, Oliver had to insist that she stay home and to make sure she remained in bed, or in this case on the couch because she didn’t want her sheets soiled, he stayed with her.

So far everything Felicity attempted to put in her body came right back up, save for some water and a few saltine crackers.

“Oliver, don’t even bother with the soup. There’s no way I’m going to keep it down. It would be a waste.”

Oliver hates seeing her like this, frail and in pain. Her voice barely reaches above a whisper and it’s a good thing that her kitchen opens to her living room or he would never have heard her.

“I told you, Raisa use to make this for me and Thea whenever we got sick. I don’t once remember not being able to stomach it. I used to think it was magic.”

He stirs the broth in its pot before scooping out a spoonful to test it. It tastes almost exactly like Raisa made it and the temperature is hot but not burning. He’s satisfied with it and turns off the burner, spooning the broth into a bowl and throwing in an ice cube so that it doesn’t burn Felicity’s mouth when she drinks it.

Oliver makes his way over to the couch, soup in hand. He takes a seat on the floor near her head and watches in amusement as Felicity burrows her face into the couch cushions.

“No. I can’t stomach it and then I’m going to get sick and you’re going to see me all disgusting and gross, again. No.”

The cushions muffle her voice as she refuses to look up at him.

“I promise you will keep this down. It never steered me wrong as a kid and you’ll feel better in no time.”

“Nah uh. Not happening.”

“Please, do it for me.”

“You’re pretty, but you’re not that pretty.”

He’s going to have to pull out the big guns to convince her of this one.

“Felicity.”

She shifts slightly and peaks up at him before sighing in defeat and Oliver does everything he can to keep the smirk off his face.

“Stupid, pretty billionaire vigilante and your stupid, pretty way of saying my name. Give me the damn soup.”

Scooping a small amount of broth onto the spoon, Oliver holds it up to her mouth to swallow.

“You are not spoon feeding me like a baby. I am perfectly capable of holding it up myself.”

The spoon and bowl are lifted from his hands and Felicity takes the first sip. She pauses for a few seconds, testing if her stomach will accept the liquid. When nothing happens she takes another experimental sip. This goes on for a few minutes before she decides that it’s safe.

Oliver’s face is smug and she dutifully ignores it.

“What did I tell you?”

“Shut up.”

After five minutes of ingesting the broth, Oliver thinks it’s safe to say that they are in the clear. He’s wrong. Not thirty seconds after he has the thought Felicity shoots out of her seat and runs to the hallway bathroom, emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Oliver follows her in, sitting behind her and gathering her hair away from her face as the soup comes back up.

“This never happened when Raisa made it, I swear.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too.”

….

Oliver doesn’t get the chance to try his hand yet again at cooking for Felicity until their one-year anniversary.

Felicity finally let him move in with her a month ago. She wanted to wait until their one-year but Oliver had been pushing for it for months and he can be very persuasive. (He didn’t hear her complaining. In fact, she was doing the exact opposite.) But moving in together hadn’t made their lives any less hectic. There was still QC work to be done and vigilante business at night. On top of that, Digg and Lyla were getting remarried and both Oliver and Felicity were included in the wedding party. They had a lot on their plates.

Tonight though, was all about them. Oliver had specifically told Digg not to call either of them unless the city was on fire and he had made Felicity promise to turn off her tablet and silence her phone. He was going to spend this night with his incredible girlfriend, eating the dinner he had made together and then eating her for dessert.

That was the plan. The reality, however, didn’t quite go that way.

He was in the kitchen when she called out to him from upstairs.

“Hey, Oliver, can you come help me with something real quick?”

“I’m coming right up.”

Oliver climbs the stairs and walks the short way to their bedroom. She’s standing in front of the full-length mirror by their closet, hands reaching back in an attempt to unzip her dress. She can see his reflection in the mirror and twists her head to look at him.

“Can you unzip me? I can’t reach.”

“Sure.”

Walking over to her, Oliver reaches out to undo her dress. One hand holds the ends together at the top; the other drags the zipper down her back. As more of her dress is undone it parts to reveal dark green lace. The lower the zipper goes the shallower his breathing gets. When it reaches the small of her back, Felicity steps out of his reach and lets the dress fall to the floor so that she is standing in dark green lace and shiny black heels. Oliver feels his jaw drop and his pants instantly tighten.

“So, do you like it?”

She gives a small turn to show him every angle and he nearly comes undone when he sees her ass in the green lace, a color so similar to his hood that it sends a wave of possession through him.

“Like would be an understatement.”

Oliver quickly closes the distance between them, wrapping one arm around Felicity’s waist while the other snakes into her hair at the base of her neck and tangles in the strands there. His mouth molds to hers, hot and demanding, and his tongue immediately seeks hers out. Felicity’s hands grasp at his shoulders as she pulls herself closer to him, until every part of her is firmly pressed against him. Their lips press together roughly, tongues stroking and teeth nipping. An overwhelming urge to just see her takes over and Oliver pulls his lips from hers. Felicity whimpers in protest but before she can do anything he turns her around to face the mirror. They make eye contact through the reflection and damn it if it doesn’t turn him on even more. From her increase in breathing he can tell it’s affecting her, too.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

Felicity tries to turn back around but Oliver isn’t having it. Instead, his arms band around her waist and pull her tightly to his front. He presses into her, allowing her to feel his body’s reaction to the lingerie she has on and she lets out a moan at the contact, arching her back slightly to rock into him. His hand comes up to push the hair off of Felicity’s right shoulder and he begins to trail hot, wet kisses up her neck to her ear, teeth scraping against the flesh that holds her industrial piercing, now in the shape of an arrow thanks to one of his Hanukkah gifts to her.

“Look at yourself in the mirror, Felicity.” He nearly growls out her name as he tightens his grip on her bare waste, massaging the bare skin there with his callused fingers. “Look at yourself standing there, in _my_ color, flushed and turned on.”

“Oliver…” One of her hands slides into his hair and pulls his face closer to her neck as he sucks on the skin there. His ministrations increase pulling soft mewls of pleasure from Felicity and causing her to press back into him.

“Was your plan to drive me crazy? Because if so you’ve succeeded. You do that everyday without even trying.”

One of Oliver’s hands slides down the front of her body to rest over the scrap of lace the covers the place Felicity needs him the most. She pushes into his hand, seeking any sort of friction to alleviate the ache she feels in her core. He’s about to slip his fingers beneath her underwear when the smell of something burning reaches his nose. Oliver’s senses are sharper than Felicity’s so it takes her a second to discern why he suddenly stopped touching her.

“Did you leave the oven on?”

“Shit.”

He runs down the stairs to see swirling grey smoke in the oven and quickly turns it off. Felicity follows seconds later, fluffy pink robe wrapped around her body, covering the sinful lingerie that drove him mad not even a few minutes ago. Surveying the scene, she quickly opens the windows and back door to prevent the smoke detector from sounding.

“I guess we’re ordering take-out tonight.”

….

It has been an exhausting week to say the least, more exhausting than usual.

Queen Consolidated is starting a new program that combines resources from both the Applied Sciences and IT Department and the board voted on Felicity to head the project. People had finally realized that her “promotion” (she was very adamant that the position was, in fact, NOT a promotion) had nothing to do with her skills in the bedroom and everything to do with her genius intellect and capability to get the job done. Now the running joke in the office is that she is really the one who calls the shots. Seeing as the company’s stock and income have grown substantially in the last two and a half years, no one is complaining.

While this position was a great opportunity for Felicity, it was also extremely taxing. Often times she would stay late at the office and just go straight from there to the foundry. Oliver could see the toll it was taking on her which is why he demanded that tonight they set time aside to just relax. He was making them a simple dinner on the grill and they were going to take it easy and just enjoy being in each other’s company.

Felicity had helped him pull out some of the ingredients when they got home from work but he quickly shooed her away after that, telling her to go make herself comfortable. He would call her when dinner was ready. The grateful look in her eyes was not lost on him as she rose on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek before slowly climbing up the stairs.

Forty minutes later dinner is ready and the table is set. Oliver calls out to let her know that it’s time to eat.

“Felicity? Dinner is ready!”

There’s no reply and he figures she just might not have heard him.

“Felicity?”

When he doesn’t get a reply the second time, Oliver heads up the stairs and into their bedroom. The sight that greets him warms his heart and brings an adoring smile to his face. Felicity is fast asleep in the middle of their bed, his gray hoodie wrapped around her small form as she cuddles the pillow that he usually lays on. He stands there for a few minutes, simply staring and taking in the innocent wonder that is his girlfriend and the love of his life.

The setting sunlight streams in from the window and it’s almost like Felicity attracts it, like she is a magnet for the golden-orange rays. It seems fitting as almost everything good and light in his life somehow comes back to her. The rays play with her golden hair that’s spread across his pillow, making it shine even brighter than normal. Oliver’s heart lifts as he watches her chest rise and fall with her even breathes. He doesn’t have it in him to wake her up.

Instead he shucks off his shoes and sweater, knowing that Felicity likes to snuggle against his bare skin and listen to his beating heart in her sleep. Gently, trying not to wake her, Oliver climbs into the bed behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, tucking his body against hers. She shifts in her sleep, turning around to face him. Sure enough her head comes to rest on his chest, right over his heart, and she lets out a sigh of contentment as a small smile plays across her mouth.

Dinner can wait for another day. Right now, there’s no other place he’d rather be.

….

“It’s been almost two years and we are just now sitting down together for a home cooked meal. If that’s not a testament to our hectic lives then I don’t know what is.”

They’re finally, finally having dinner together at home. A dinner that wasn’t ordered off of her tablet or prepackaged in their freezer. Oliver has never been more satisfied with himself. Ok, that’s a lie. He can distinctly recall a time during yesterday’s business meeting when he got bored and decided to distract himself with Felicity that he’s pretty sure will never be beaten out satisfaction wise. The memory brings a smirk to his face.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing. I’m just happy, being here with you.”

It’s not a lie. Oliver can’t remember a time in his life filled with more happiness than the nearly two years that he and Felicity have been dating. Once he got past his initial worry that being with him would endanger her, everything came so easily.

“I’m happy being with you, too.”

Despite the fact that he says things like this to her on a daily basis, Felicity always blushes at his declarations. He can see the rosy tint spread across her cheeks now from where he sits across the table and it only causes his smile to widen.

“This is nice. I wish we could do this everyday.”

Even though they both know that would be impossible, Oliver nods in agreement at her statement. They spend the next few minutes enjoying the food and just being with each other in an everyday sort of way. The way normal couples were. They would never be normal, and that was more than okay with both of them, but it was nice to do something conventional for once.

She breaks the silence a few minutes later, not because it’s uncomfortable, but because when something pops into her head she can’t help but tell him about it.

“You know, I think I get why people tease us that we’re pretty much married.”

“You do, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean we basically skipped all those awkward dating steps in between and went straight to a serious relationship. We already knew the important and the little things about each other. We definitely had the fighting down pact before you even kissed me. And sitting here, right now, it kind of feels like we’ve been together our entire lives, but in a good way, a really good way. At least that’s what it feels like to me.”

His next words slip out without any forethought.

“You know, we could be, if you wanted to.”

“We could be what?”

Well, there’s no taking it back now, and honestly he doesn’t want to. So instead Oliver just rolls with it. He’s had the ring hidden in one of his drawers for months now. Not because he’s nervous, in fact he’s never been more sure of anything in his life, but because he knows Felicity and he knows that the idea of getting engaged before they’ve even reached their two-year mark might not sit well with her.

“Married.”

Silence beats around them as she drops her fork and stares at him, trying to gauge if he’s serious or not.

“If that’s your way of proposing you really need to re-think it. I’ve seen the ring, you could at least get down on your knee.”

Oliver really shouldn’t have assumed he would know Felicity’s reaction. He may know Felicity and her habits but he also knows that after these past four years she still manages to surprise him quite frequently.

“You’ve seen the ring?”

“Oliver, it’s in your sock drawer.”

Yeah, it wasn’t the cleverest of hiding spots.

He doesn’t exactly know what to do next. Like she’s done with everything else in his life, Felicity has thrown him for a loop.

“It’s okay. I’ll still act surprised when you show it to me. If it helps I’m pretty sure I cried for a solid five minutes when I found it and subsequently called Sara as I freaked out, because we haven’t even been together for two years and who does that? Who gets engaged after two years? I thought I was crazy for considering it. But Sara pointed out to me that we never really followed any sort of usual dating protocol anyway, so why start now, right? It’s gorgeous, by the way, and probably way too expensive. Oh and the answer is yes.”

It takes his brain a minute to catch up to the words flowing out of her mouth.

“Yes?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Before Oliver realizes what he’s doing he stands abruptly out of his chair and crosses over to where Felicity is seated, pulling her to stand and melding his lips to hers in a searing kiss. He doesn’t let it go far before pulling away and taking her hand to lead her out of the kitchen.

“But what about the rest of dinner?”

“The love of my life just agreed to become my wife and I plan on giving her the proposal she deserves before showing her just how happy I am to have her by my side for the rest of my life.”

He then proceeds to pull her upstairs and do just that.

So they never exactly got around to finishing a meal he cooked for her but they were nearly done before his impromptu proposal. He figures it’s close enough.

Plus, they have the rest of their lives to make up for it.

**Author's Note:**

> As you can see I am completely incapable of writing short things. I hope everyone enjoyed this step away from the pain that is currently the show. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and let me know what you think!  
> \- B


End file.
